The days passed.
Argolaith did not attend his classes.
He did not train.
He did not sleep much, either.
Instead, he searched.
Through every tower. Every archive. Every whisper-soaked hallway of the Grand Magic Academy.
He needed one thing:
A way to isolate Elyrion.
To keep his realm from touching the world that had become his second beginning.
But the academy—it didn't want to help.
Not intentionally.
The place was filled with knowledge, yes—but also locked doors, sealed texts, and libraries that moved when no one was looking.
Magic had a mind here.
And it liked its secrets.
He started in the main archive, beneath the Rune Weaving Department.
There, he read through dozens of codices on dimensional harmony, searching for even a line about severing resonance between forming realms.
Nothing.
Most books only covered what could be done—never what shouldn't.
Those were the books hidden deeper.
